


"Happy Birthday, Papa!"

by notjustmom



Series: Box of 64 [16]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Parentlock, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 05:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10507284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: In this verse, John's birthday is today, March 31, just because. ;) In this bit, he turns 50, and hopes Sherlock has forgotten. Rosie is six and remembers everything.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [almosttomorocco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almosttomorocco/gifts).



> A very happy birthday to almosttomorocco xox

"Da!!!" Rosie was shaking Sherlock's shoulder and whispering roughly in his ear. "Wake up!"

"Huh? Wha's wrong, Ro?" Sherlock sat up, rubbed his eyes and picked up his phone to see what time it was. "Four in the morning?"

"You forgot." She hissed as she placed her hands on her hips and glared at him imperiously.

"Damn. No, I didn't, it's just..." Sherlock looked over at John who was still asleep, by some miracle. "Rosie, he hates his birthday, and he turns 5-0 this year. I mean he turns 50 today. I don't know that we should -"

The glare narrowed sharply and she tapped her foot at him.

Sherlock groaned silently as he knew she was right, and thought for a moment. "Okay, okay... I know some people who can help us out. I have to leave him a note so he won't get worried, and then I need to get dressed."

She nodded and did her most silent ninja walk out of the room.

Sherlock grabbed a piece of paper and pen and scribbled a note, then laid it on his pillow, so John would be sure to see it:

 

"Rosie and I had to go to the shops. Back soon. xoxox " - S

 

Then he threw on his clothes he wore when he didn't want to be recognized and went out to the front room where Rosie was ready, notebook in hand. "Cake. We need cake. And flowers."

"Flowers?" Sherlock whispered, trying to remember ever buying John flowers, but this was her show, so he shrugged and nodded for Rosie to continue.

"Balloons. Lotsa balloons. All the colours."

"Hmmm, I know a baker who is open all hours, she owes me a favour, and flowers are doable - balloons...balloons may be harder."

Rosie looked up at him with those eyes and he sighed. "I'll see what I can do, the balloons may have to wait until this afternoon, it takes time to blow up 'lotsa balloons in all the colours.'"

"Okay. Just as long as he has birthday cake for breakfast. 'Cake is - '"

"Yes, I know, Ro, 'Cake is obligatory,' I know. Okay, let's go before he gets up - ready?"

"Ready!" She smiled at him for the first time that day, and grabbed his hand. "Let's go!!!"

 

John woke up two hours later to the scent of coffee, but good coffee, and flowers. He blinked and looked around the room, no Sherlock, no sounds of Rosie. He took a deep breath and remembered. Fifty. He was 50. The big 5-0. And he felt it this morning. Everything ached and his shoulder was acting up. But the coffee smelled really good and he needed to be with his family. He threw on his robe and slid into his ratty slippers. Sherlock always threatened to get him new ones, but he had worn these since, well, forever and wasn't about to change just because -

"Damn - what did you do?" John stopped, stunned by the sight that greeted him. Flowers covered every possible inch of their flat. All tulips, in every colour. "Sher - Ro? Are you in there somewhere?"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PAPAAAAA!" Rosie appeared from behind Sherlock's chair, and pulled the detective up from the floor with her.

"When did you do this?" John asked quietly.

"I, uhm, -" Sherlock began, a bit sheepishly, "I -"

"We both did it Papa, I had the ideas, and Da knew all the best places." She waited until John had turned away before she winked at Sherlock, and he knew she would be trouble in the years to come, but for now, he grinned at her conspiratorially before John turned back around.

"And there is cake, because 'cake is - '" Rosie piped up as John squinted at them, knowing he missed something as usual.

"Yeah, I know, love, 'obligatory.' You went out this morning and did this for me? How?" He looked at them, grinning madly at him, then shook his head. "Never mind, I just changed my mind, I don't want to know. So, who wants cake for breakfast?"

"MEEEEEEE!" Rosie screamed, and ran into the kitchen, and Sherlock followed slowly behind; John grabbed him by the grubby sleeve of a well worn jacket and Sherlock stopped, then met John's eyes and smiled.

"I know you didn't want anything, but Rosie wanted to do something, to tell you how much you mean to her, to both of us."

"I -"

There was a loud bang at the door and Rosie ran to open it.

"Guess they got them done earlier than expected." Sherlock whispered.

"Got what done - what did you -" John's jaw dropped and Rosie squealed and clapped her hands. Five of Sherlock's Homeless Network carried in ten balloons each, in a rainbow of colours. Finally, one girl entered the flat, holding a single balloon. She spotted Rosie and dropped to her knees.

"You must be Doc and Sherlock's daughter, I was told to give you this one, it's a bit special." She handed Rosie a single balloon, a swirl of purples, greens and blues. "Heard a rumour you weren't into pink, so I thought this might -"

For once, Rosie was speechless; she bit her lip and took the balloon carefully from the girl's hand, then threw her arms around her, nearly taking her down. The girl laughed and hugged her back. "You're welcome, sweetie, your dads are the best, we are just happy to help you guys celebrate."

Rosie sniffed and finally found her words. "We have plenty of cake, please, stay?"

Sherlock wrapped his arm around John and sighed. "Well, at least you will never forget this birthday, John."

John leaned into him and shook his head. "No, I can't imagine I will ever be able to. Thank you, love."

"Coffee?"

"Please?"

 

John closed the door to Rosie's room quietly then made his way to their bedroom. Sherlock looked up from his phone, saw the look in John's eyes and turned it off.

"John?"

"No one has ever - "

Sherlock threw the covers off and got out of bed, then walked over to John and took him in his arms. "I'm sorry, John. You should always be celebrated, and not just on your birthday; you should have always known and felt you were loved. Always."

John buried his face in Sherlock's shoulder for a moment, then looked up and met his lover's smiling eyes. "Thank you for an insanely amazing day, I'll never forget it, not ever."

"Come to bed John, and I'll make sure you won't."


End file.
